Love Me Forever Read online

  Love Me Forever

  Donna Fletcher

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Love Me Forever

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright 2011 Donna Fletcher

  Printing History

  Jove edition/February 2003

  Published by Donna Fletcher at Smashwords, 2011

  Cover art by Marc Fletcher

  EBook Design by A Thirsty Mind

  Visit Donna’s Web site

  http://www.donnafletcher.com

  Become a fan on Facebook

  http://www.facebook.com/donna.fletcher.author

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Titles by Donna Fletcher

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Scotland, 1513

  I AM SORRY, BRIANNA, YOUR HUSBAND IS DEAD.

  Those words resonated in her bead and echoed in the depths of her soul. She had shed not a tear when her brother, Ian, had delivered the startling news. She had simply stared at him in silence. What else was there for her to do? Was she not waiting on this news? Had she not prayed for this?

  Ian had not approached her nor had he offered her any further condolences. He appeared at a loss as to how to comfort her and had turned a helpless look on his wife, Moira.

  Her remark had taken her husband completely by surprise. “You will be late to the village if you do not leave now.”

  Thinking back, Brianna appreciated her sister-in-law’s directness. She had helped her to face a difficult moment. Now, sitting alone in the coach a good distance from her brother’s keep in Glencoe, she was glad for the solitude. Her brother had protested her departure, insisting she should not go, insisting that she should not be alone at this time. But solitude was her friend and she needed this time alone. This time to think and reason and recall all she had been through.

  Moira thought his suggestion nonsense. She insisted that Brianna had healed nicely over the last six difficult months and that the villagers were eagerly awaiting her arrival. She would be instructing them in the making of new dyes and proper food preparation for the winter, which was but six weeks away. This trip was necessary not only for the villagers but for Brianna.

  Her sister-in-law had been well-schooled at the convent where she had spent seventeen years of her life before marrying Ian. A monk had educated her in mathematics and science, and Moira had never lost her interest in knowledge; she continued to educate herself as well as those who wished to learn.

  Brianna had wished to learn. Her studies had helped her to heal. It had taken time and she had shed endless tears in the process, but she had succeeded with Moira’s help in facing the truth about her husband and her marriage. Arran had been a handsome and selfish man. He had cared naught but for himself and in the end his own greed had been his destruction. He had plotted to murder Moira, the babe, and then Ian, leaving himself to lead the clan Cameron. He had managed to escape in the end, though not before threatening to kill his own wife.

  She wiped at a single tear. It was not shed for Arran; he did not deserve her tears. It was shed out of relief that her ordeal had finally come to an end. She was free, no longer wed, nor ever wishing to wed again.

  She had given her heart only to have it broken. She had thought love could heal all and survive all. She would not make that foolish mistake again. She would trust no man, particularly a handsome man, and besides, she found it difficult to believe in love. She had thought when she fell in love it would be forever. She was wrong and she would take no second chances.

  There was, however, one man in her life she knew truly cared for her, and that was her six-month-old nephew, Duncan. He had captured her heart and she was madly in love with the tiny lad. And since she was barren, never in her four years of marriage having conceived a child, she would give her love to her brother’s son.

  The wooden coach hit several bumps in the road, and Brianna grimaced, knowing it would be a sore bottom she would suffer upon her arrival. But it mattered little to her, for she was looking forward to teaching the village women all that Moira had taught her. Ian had sent two men along with her for protection. Usually she had many more around her, but with Arran’s death there was no longer any need for concern and she was pleased.

  She had felt a prisoner. She was now free.

  “Free,” she said softly, smiled, and hugged herself. It was a good feeling.

  Another hard bump had her almost tumbling off her seat, and when she heard the crack of thunder in the distance, she assumed the men had hastened the pace in an attempt to make the village before the storm made the roads impassable.

  Autumn was fast giving way to winter and it was an unusually cold day for November. She wrapped her red and green plaid around her, her soft green wool tunic and underdress keeping her warm, and there was a fur wrap in the coach in case the weather worsened. She felt well-protected.

  The coach gave a leap and a bump, and Brianna took a peek past the leather hide window coverings. She did not like what she saw. They traveled dangerously close to the edge of a hill, and while it was not a far drop, it was nonetheless a drop that could prove fatal to them all.

  She sat back in her seat and recited a silent prayer for their safety. In a few minutes the coach slowed, though the pace remained hasty, and Brianna sighed with relief.

  The sigh was but brief. At that moment the coach suddenly tilted, sending Brianna smashing against the door. She tried frantically to grab the window strap for support or to right herself, but it was a hand’s length from her reach. The coach then toppled over and she screamed as her body was thrown senselessly around the toppling coach. It turned over and over and over, and before it came to a crashing halt on the ground, Brianna had mercifully slipped into unconsciousness.

  Darkness was all she could see and pain was all she could feel. She dared not make a sound, for that might disturb the throbbing pain that already resonated throughout her body. She lay silent in the darkness wondering how she had gotten here and where here was.

  It took several agonizing minutes for her to regain her senses and realize what had happened. The coach had run off the side of the road and plunged furiously down the hill, rendering her unconscious and quite possibly killing the two men with her. And if that was so, she was now helpless. There was no one to offer her help or protection, and she was in no condition to protect herself. She kept slipping in and out of consciousness, and that made it more difficult for her to focus. Her one constant thought was that she needed to open her eyes and see to her whereabouts. If she could determine the extent of her situation, perhaps then s
he could determine a solution.

  She thought she heard the crunching of leaves as if someone approached, and at first she felt relief, though fear quickly followed. If one of the men had survived the crash, he would have called out to her to let her know of his approach. A stranger would remain silent.

  Robbers and villains were well acquainted with this area and would waste no time in claiming what they could from the damaged coach and the bodies they found. Fear raced through her and only caused her more pain. She hurt so badly that she could not determine her injuries.

  Pain at the moment was in complete control of her body, and she could only maintain her presence of mind sporadically.

  The heavy footsteps moved closer, the crunch of the leaves sounding louder to Brianna’s ears. There was naught that she could do. She was defenseless. She could but wait and meet her fate.

  Being a Cameron, she felt the need to react with courage since she was unable to defend herself, and she struggled to open her eyes and meet friend or foe.

  With great difficulty she managed to open her eye enough to see the shape of a dark figure. Tall and broad were the only distinguishing features she could determine, for her eyes warred with her to close.

  The mysterious figure bent down beside her, and in an instant she felt herself being lifted into powerful arms, but the pain that the movement caused her so overwhelmed that she slipped back into the blessed darkness.

  A stab of pain brought Brianna back to consciousness. Only this time she rested on soft bedding and comforting warmth penetrated her aching body. Her first thought was to remain still and linger in this heavenly bliss, but it was a brief consideration and one she could not take seriously.

  She had to know where she was and who had brought her here. And of course she had to determine if she was in danger, though there was little she could do to defend herself. Still, she could not remain ignorant of her situation no matter how much the soft bedding eased her pain.

  She opened her eyes slowly and it took several agonizing minutes for her vision to clear enough for her to determine her whereabouts. She lay in a good-size bed with a layer of coverings over her. And in an instant she realized she lay naked, not a stitch of clothing on her.

  Worry seized her and with great effort she made a cursory glance around the room. It was a one-room cottage of fair size, and it smelled fresh as if tended to regularly. She fought to keep her eyes open and fought to focus them on her surroundings, but the relentless throb in her head made it a battle hard to win.

  She allowed her eyes a brief rest before forcing them open once again. This time she caught sight of a table and two chairs in front of the hearth. She kept her eyes steady on the stone fireplace. It was large, taking up a good portion of the wall with a rough log mantel across the stones, a good head’s height above the flames.

  A sudden stabbing pain to her ribs forced her eyes shut, and she attempted to take several deep breaths, which only worsened her pain. She wondered if she had broken any bones, and while she wished to know, she was too much of a coward to discover for herself. She felt as if she had suffered a bad beating. Every part of her ached or throbbed, and if she attempted to move a mere inch she quickly found herself slipping into the depths of unconsciousness.

  She could never see to her own care in this horrendous condition, but how then could she allow a stranger to tend her? Tears threatened her eyes and she fought hard to keep them away. It would do her little good to shed senseless tears. They would serve no purpose and only manage to hamper her already hampered sight.

  Courage.

  She needed the courage of her heritage. She was born of a strong clan, and no matter the difficulties or challenges, the Cameron clan faced all adversaries with pride and honor. She had only recently regained that pride and honor in herself after having surrendered it to a husband who had not been worthy of her. She had promised herself she would never do so again. She would maintain her rich heritage and face life’s challenges with courage as only a Cameron could.

  The pain subsided enough for her to focus once again on her surroundings. She thought she caught sight of a single window but could not be certain, and the delicious scent in the air told her that something tasty roasted over the hearth’s flames.

  The well-maintained condition of the cottage told her that a caring heart resided here, and that thought gave her pause to sigh in relief.

  Her eyes drifted shut once again, and she almost slipped back into the blissful relief of the darkness when she heard a movement and her eyes sprang open, causing her to grimace in pain. She did not moan, for she had found that even the slightest sound caused her discomfort.

  Where had it come from?

  She listened to the silence, hoping to hear the slight movement again, but she heard only the crackling of the hearth’s flames. Someone was here with her and she knew not who. The thought that a stranger lingered nearby made her grow fearful.

  How could she protect herself? She had not the strength, nor the means to defend herself. She could do nothing but rely on the kindness of a stranger. But was it kindness he offered?

  She searched the room, her glance going from corner to corner, and she could see nothing, but she had heard. What had she heard?

  The sound came again.

  It was a shuffle of sorts, as if someone moved, but it was a brief movement, a barely noticeable or audible one.

  Did he not want her to detect his presence?

  She remained quiet, not moving, only listening. She fought the darkness that reached up to capture her. She could not surrender to it even though it removed her from the constant pain and offered her relief. It was a false sense of relief, for she would wake to the pain once again and realize her plight. Strength was her ally and she could not surrender to her pain.

  She battled with herself and forced her eyes open, forced herself to glance once again around the room. She thought she caught a movement in the corner next to the fireplace, and she allowed her glance to settle there.

  She thought it a shadow, a large shadow that dominated the corner, the width and height of it overpowering and intimidating like a dark angel who hovered in wait.

  She swallowed her fear and remained focused on the shadow. It moved, only slightly, but it moved.

  She waited to see if it would move again.

  It did.

  It moved away from the fireplace slowly, as if hesitant, and with even slower steps it approached the bed where she lay.

  Brianna tried to take a deep breath, but pain rushed into her chest and she gasped as a relentless ache stabbed repeatedly at her body.

  Her distress caused the shadow to move faster, and it reached the bed in an instant.

  Brianna stared in horror at the sight that hovered over her.

  She thought the face that of a man, but she could not be sure, for a freshly stitched scar, red and raw, ran from his forehead over his eye, down his cheek to his jaw. His other eye was badly bruised and swollen almost shut. His lower lip was in the process of healing from a severe split. His multiple injuries had swollen his face grotesquely out of shape so much so that he resembled a demon from the depths of hell. Her response was natural.

  She screamed herself into unconsciousness.

  Chapter Two

  Brianna made her way out of the darkness. A nagging thought warned her to remain in the shelter of the shadows, but that was not possible. The light would bring her knowledge, and Moira had taught her that knowledge was important to survival.

  She opened her eyes slowly and her surroundings rushed back to her, filling her with an anxious fear. The hideous face she had last seen before unconsciousness claimed her loomed in her mind’s eye. And the realization that the grotesque man shared this lone cottage with her made her tremble with dread.

  Was he merely a hapless victim of unfortunate circumstance? Or was his beating a justifiable punishment for a crime? She would not have her answers or ease her fear if she did not ask, but she found it difficult
to speak. She was not certain if the lack of speech was due to her injuries or her fear of hearing unfavorable answers.

  “I mean you no harm.”

  His soft, deep voice startled her. It was much gentler than she had expected, but still she knew little of this man.

  “I apologize for my appearance. I do not wish to frighten you.”

  He offered her an explanation in a tender and caring tone and made no move to approach her. She had not expected thoughtfulness, and her anxiousness calmed, though it did not vanish. It lingered nearby along with apprehension.

  He continued, his voice filled with a confident strength yet touched with a soft concern. “I have recently seen a harsh battle and my wounds only begin to heal. Again, I mean you no harm. I but wish to help you. While your body shows no signs of broken bones, you have sustained a severe bruising to your chest and legs and need care.”

  The thought that she was helpless upset Brianna, and tears trickled from her eyes, though she fought to keep them under control. It would do her no good to show this stranger weakness.

  “My name is Royce, and I ask permission to tend to your needs.”

  That he spoke the truth to her was obvious. She could not move without pain stabbing at her. But how could she allow this strange man to see to her every need? How could she bear the thought of being so vulnerable in front of him? Could she do nothing for herself?

  Her Cameron pride made her attempt to at least sit up in the bed without any assistance. If she could accomplish that menial task, perhaps then she would not feel so helpless and dependent on this stranger.

  She stubbornly moved her arms, though her chest ached from the effort, and when she attempted to brace them on the bed and move herself, a vicious stabbing pain knifed through her and forced a scream from her. She did not, however, count on the scream being his name.

  He rushed to her side and took her hand, holding it gently while his other hand tenderly stroked her forehead.

  “It is all right. Calm and the pain will subside. I am here and will care for you and protect you. Think naught but of my hand soothing your head and my voice that reaches out to you in concern. Tell me your name? I have wondered over it.”